School of Winter
by MrsChaolWestfall
Summary: Sansa had an older sister, a sister who was one year older than her. Being the eldest female, she was betrothed to Joffrey. Everyone was scared of his sadistic ways - but not Iona.
1. Chapter 1

The boy screamed, screamed for mercy. Mercy that he would not receive.

"You are pathetic. No one will hear you. No one would care." Iona seethed, glaring at the victim who lay crippled on the ground at her feet.  
"Why? Why are you doing this?" The boy, who could be no older than thirteen whimpered as Iona resumed to tower over him.

Using the dagger that she had acquired many months ago, from a dead man, she carved a 'v' into the boy's broken leg. The leg that she had jumped on previously to stop him running.  
"That is not your place to ask questions. Villagers do not question Ladies." She snapped. Iona was clever - she knew how to get away with what she did... she knew how to cover her tracks. She had to pass her work off as someone elses. Being a Lady helped... being female meant that no one would think she was capable of doing it.

The little village boy cried and screamed for help as she peeled the flap of skin back, tearing it away from his body.  
"You did a bad thing. And crimes do not go unpunished."  
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"  
His feeble pleads gave Iona so much satisfaction that she found it hard to stop. But she knew she had to, if she was gone to long people would worry and then they'd look.

She twiddled the dagger between her fingers and sighed, looking smugly down at the boy.  
"Now... do I kill you, or cut out your tongue."  
"Kill me! Kill me, please!" He cried.  
That would be too easy. So Iona did both. She grinned as she cut out his tongue and watch his cries turn to gurgles until she cut his throat and was done with it.

Her horse, that she had left a short walk away from the scene was undisturbed by the screaming. She supposed that it had gotten used to it now. Iona only had a handful of rules, and it included only ever hurting humans and bugs - but never animals.

She took the horse and herself to the small creek and washed her hands and blade. She was always careful, and never got blood on her tunic and breeches. She was only allowed to wear these clothes if riding - it was the only time her mother allowed her to be out of a dress.

She jumped onto her horse and galloped back to Winterfell. She took a different route to make it appear as if she had come from the opposite direction that she actually had. The corpse would be discovered eventually, but a hill tribe or a wilding or such, or maybe even one of the people of Winterfell, who would know the boy and with it being so far away, and even further north it would be assumed that a wildling or hilltribe did it.

To everyone of Winterfell, including her family, she had simply gone out horseriding. She had tricked the boy out of Winterfell, without anyone else knowing. She was good like that, she was had the dagger concealed within her breeches, strapped to her thigh.

Into the main courtyard of Winterfell she stopped her horse and dismounted, letting the stable boys take him.  
Her direwolf met her halfway. Her older brother had brought her back the wolf after a beheading of a deserter. Her other siblings had received one too.  
There was nothing special about her wolf. Her half brother had the best looking one, with snow white fur and red eyes. He had named it Ghost.  
With no original features Iona had called her Lyall.  
Iona ruffled the fur on her head and walked off, Lyall obediently following at her heel.

It was as soon as she entered through the gates that her act began again.  
Arya ran up to her and joined her walk. "Can I come next time?"  
"No." She said firmly, "You know mother barely let's me go. I would if I could... Maybe when you are older."  
"But that is not fair!" Arya whined.  
"Yes, but those are mothers rules."  
"Can you at least convince her to let me wear clothes other than dresses every so often?"  
"You should do that yourself if you really want to."  
"I have tried!" Arya pushed, "She won't listen."  
"Give her a reason to listen. Earn her trust... I know you've been creating havoc for a while." She said, trying to sound mature, but she couldn't help but smile.  
Arya huffed and ran off again.

She weaved in and out of the people, who were setting up any last minute preparations necessary for the King's arrival. It would be any day now.  
The rumours she'd heard about the Prince were shocking. Well, that's what she made people think. They were brilliant! If he was really as sadistic as everyone made him out to be, they would get along perfectly.  
Mayhaps, even one day, she could rule beside him as Queen. That would be truly magnificent.

With her wolf following by her ankles, she escaped to her chambers. Iona threw herself onto her bed and let out a big huff of breath. Her wolf hopped on beside her, and rested its head on her stomach, mimicking her owners sigh.

A while later, there was a short knock on the door - a knock Iona had come to recognise as her handmaidens. Calling for her to come in, she propped herself up on her elbows so she was able to see properly.

"Good Afternoon, m'lady."  
"Yes. Rane, will you run me a bath please?"  
"Of course, m'lady" The woman, who was two years older than Iona approached her and saw her state of dress. "You lie on your bed fully clothed m'lady, your riding clothes. Would you not like to change into a lighter dress?"  
"Mayhaps after I bath. Mother will want me dressed appropriately for dinner."

As she bathed, her only thoughts mulled over who she could trick into the forest next. There was a man who had been oogling at her handmaiden, Rane, at every opportunity he had. Whenever Rane escorted her in the courtyard, if he was there, he would stare at her as if he were undressing her with his eyes. Rane was aware of it too - when his gaze was upon her, Iona could feel the uncomfort rolling off her in could she trick a man who was at least thirty years older than her? With false promises.


	2. Chapter 2

"Wake up m'lady! M'lady wake up!" The sound of Rane's frantic voice woke Iona with a start.

The panic in Ranes voice worried her, and she prepared herself to run out if necessary.  
"What? What is it?"  
"The King! Little Lord Bran saw them coming. I must get you ready!"  
Iona rubbed her eyes and forced herself up from the bed. Lyall sat upon her haunches in the corner of the room, studying the two women.  
"How long do we have?"  
"Half an hour at the most,"

She wriggled her bare toes against the floor. It was not long before she would meet the Prince of Westeros, Joffrey. A giddy giggle escaped Iona's lips.  
"I must dress quickly then."

Her handmaiden was already steps ahead of her. Draped across her arms was a beautiful gown of a blush pink. It was made of fine cotton, but many layers of it.  
Rane held it up for Iona to see before abandoning it to be able to strip her of her nightgown and put her into a corset. The corset was a plain grey one, and not to heavily boned. It was one of the more comfortable choices.

Iona had been granted with corsets when she had developed the beginnings of a proper womans chest at the age of four and ten. She was bigger than her sisters, her stomach was not flat and she had wide hips with thighs that touched from her crotch to her , her thighs did have a bit of shape to them, as did her calves. Years of riding and sports had toned her legs. Unlike her younger sister Sansa, Iona never seemed to be free of a bruise or a cut. Scars were scattered across her body too, though mostly on her legs where she had acquired cuts from falling into thorns, or branches. All were easily covered by her dresses.

Over the undergarments Iona pulled a woolen shift over herself; another layer to keep her warm in the cold of the north.

Instantaneously, the blush pink gown was slipped onto her arms and brought around to her front so it could be tied. The ties finished just beneath her breasts, that had filled out nicely - now a woman of sixteen. However, it was far too cold to have the top of them on show, like the deep vneck of the dress allowed for.

With an intricately embroidered scarf, her attire was complete (not forgetting the winter boots she had put on first that were hidden by her dress which just touched the floor).

Looking in the mirror, she saw her hair which was currently more of a rats nest than sat her down and forced a brush through it, apologising with every tug. Too Iona, with her masochistic ways, it was nothing.

With only a few minutes to spare, and her hair only just passing as decent, the pair ran out to the courtyard, and joined the gathering crowd. With her family she stood on the front row - Rane joining the other servants several rows behind.

Iona silently thanked the gods, as she wasn't the latest. Arya fell into the line a few moments later than her, and was scolded by their parents for wearing a helmet.  
Iona suffered no scolding, except from a scathing look from her mother.

Proudly, she stood between her older brother Robb, and Sansa.  
Thankfully, due to the wind, her sisters, who had their hair done properly was still mussed up, so her own did not look out of place.

Iona stopped glancing at her other siblings, and faced front, ready for the arrival.

First, in Lannister colours, came several guards. For them to be in Lannister colours was unusual considering the King was a Baratheon. Though any smart man knew the Lannisters held more power over the throne that the king did, simply because they were richer.

Then, not far behind rode the Prince. At his entrance, Iona's back straightened, causing her chest to push out more. She held her head up high, radiating confidence. Sansa, on her right did not take her eyes off the Prince, but she noticed how he paid no attention to her.

With a flirtatious smile upon her face, she teased the Prince, Joffrey, with quick but promising glances every so often. Each time she would make direct eye contact with him, but never for too long - just enough for him to want more.

On her left, her brother who was older than her only by a single year frowned at the pair. Robb had heard and shared unruly rumours about the Prince, and he did not want him to corrupt his little sister. He tried to send subtle, threatening glares at the Prince, but he did not see them - his eyes not leaving Iona. These actions simply enraged Robb further.

Iona's gaze left the Prince once and for all when the Royal carriage rolled in, and was finally followed by the King himself, on had never met the King before, and she hadn't imagined him like this. The man with the crown upon his head had a red, pudgy face, and a belly almost as big as his horse. In that moment, Iona felt bad for the horse that carried the mass known as the king.

This was not a king, this was the human personification of greed. She tore her eyes away when they all bowed low, and looked at the dirt ground.

Her father, Eddard Stark, looked up with a hint of a grin on his face. The King dismounted his horse and marched over, until he was in front of Ned. With a gloved hand, he beckoned for them to rise and in unison, the crowd did.

All stood in silence waiting for the King to speak, except for a polite address from Ned.  
When he did, his gruff voice uttered three very unexpected words to Ned; "You've got fat."  
In that moment an awkward pause swallowed the courtyard.  
Everyone watched the two men silently, wanting to see what would happen.  
Ned nodded towards the King's own inflated stomach before the two fell into laughter and embraced each other.

"Cat!" The King cried, hugging Lady Catelyn Stark with one arm. The King made sure to ruffle the youngest Stark's hair before returning to Ned.  
"Nine years. Why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been?"  
"Guarding the North for you, your Grace. Winterfell is yours."

Half of Iona's attention rested with the King and her father, whilst the rest focused on the rest of the Royal family who were exiting the carriage.  
Young Prince Tommen, Princess Myrcella and the Queen herself, Cersei.

Cersei was a very beautiful woman, with luscious golden hair - a common trait among Lannisters. With a magnificent facial bone structure that stirred envy in every other woman, she could truly pass as a goddess upon Earth.  
However, the bitterness that was clear on her face was slightly off-putting.

She started to walk over to the Stark family as Arya asked "Where's the imp?"  
The imp was the common nickname of the Queen's younger dwarf brother, Tyrion.  
"Will you shut up?" Sansa huffed before the King spoke again.

"Who have we got here? You must be Robb." A firm handshake introduced the eldest Stark child to the King.  
"And you must be the beautiful Iona." He noted, patting her shoulder.  
"Yes, your Grace." She replied with a short curtsy.  
A similar comment was made to her sister. When he came to stand in front of Arya, she introduced herself abruptly.  
Finally, for Bran he made more of an effort. "Show us those muscles."  
Bran flexed his young arm for the King to humor him and mutter "You'll be a soldier!"

Now, Iona's attention was on the guard who had lead the Prince in. Taking off his helmet, his identity was revealed as Jaime Lannister, the Queen's twin brother. Like his sister, he had be blessed with unworldly good looks.

He watched his twin walk towards Ned and hold out her hand for it to be kissed.  
Ned did so, with a smile. His wife, next to him curtsied and addressed her. Oblivious to it all, the King yelled "Ned. Take me to the crypt. I want to pay my respects."  
"We've been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait." Cersei noted calmly,  
Ignoring her completely, the King simply called for Ned once more.  
He sent the Queen an apologetic look before obeying the King and leading him off.

After a few moments everyone began to disperse, including the Stark family.  
Iona made sure to shoot one more glance at Prince Joffrey, not for his sake, but for any onlookers there might have been. Joffrey, at that moment had been dismounting his horse and had not seen. What she did not know is how he watched her walk away.

Down in the Crypts of Winterfell, Ned Stark and the King stood. The King proposed that they joined their two houses by marrying Joffrey to Iona. To the King, it was the best option and to Ned, it was the worst thing he could have done.


	3. Chapter 3

"Why does Iona get to marry Prince Joffrey and not me?"  
"Because she is older, Sansa. Besides, your father has not said yes yet, nor has he to being the King's Hand." Cat muttered, gently pulling a brush through her daughter's fire red hair.  
"Why wouldn't he? It would mean that she would one day be Queen."  
Frowning, she replied "It would also mean she would have to leave home, and leave me."

Sitting on Sansa's bed, Iona watched as her sister questioned her mother. Her little sister was jealous - though she had no reason to be... Joffrey was a monster, or so people supposed. Iona could handle that, Sansa could not. Her dear little sister was obsessed with the idea that many childhood stories had fed her; a Prince married a Lady and they lived happily ever after. She was not so exposed to the more political side of the world.  
"Sansa, you would accompany me to Kings Landing. As would you Arya. Mayhaps, there you will meet some better."  
Sansa pursed her lips at the comment.  
"He is so handsome."  
"Yes, he is, and I will be sure to tell him that you said that." Iona smirked at her sister's embarrassment.  
"Please don't!" Sansa cried, her cheeks as red as her hair.  
"I would never. I am not so cruel."  
"Do take care of yourself, Iona."  
"You know I will, mother."

* * *

The feast had been nothing but tedious. All Iona could do was sit there and smile at the Prince whenever she noticed him staring at her.  
With Robb on the side furthest away from him, but still next to her, she had to be careful. She could not make it too obvious in fear of his tendency to be too over-protective.

She also made sure to check on her mother every so often. Her mother sat beside Queen Cersei, who had been done up beautifully. Iona was rather envious of her looks. Her heart went out to her as she watched the King grope and kiss several of the serving maids and bar mistresses.  
When she next looked at her mother, her mothers eyes flashed - as if to signal her. Instantly she stood up and walked to the main table. In front of the Queen she curtsied.  
"Good Evening, Your Grace."  
"Iona, yes?"  
She nodded politely.  
"You're very beautiful, little dove."  
"Thank you your grace, but I could not compare to you."  
The Queen smiled, but it was forced. Iona knew all too well.  
"Have you bled yet?"  
"Yes, since I was three and ten, your Grace."  
"You have not been married yet?"  
"No. My mother wasn't ready to let me go."  
"Well, mayhaps that was for the best, now you are to marry my son."  
"It would seem so, your Grace."  
"That is a lovely gown. Did you make it yourself?"  
"No, unfortunately I am not talented in such things."  
There conversation was interrupted by a scream of "Arya!" behind Iona.  
Turning, she saw that her youngest sister had flung a spoonful of food at Sansa, and it had hit her directly on the side of her face.  
With Robb unable to stop himself laughing, Iona took it upon herself to escort her sister to bed. Excusing herself, she grabbed Arya by her upper arm and gently pulled her away. On her way out, she scooped Rickon up into her free arm and called for Bran to follow. Like a goose with ducklings, they left the hall.

The first room they went to was Rickon's. The little boy had been yawning and rubbing his eyes the entire way.  
Iona had ordered Arya and Bran to wait inside the room, by the door whilst she readied Rickon for bed. After changing him quickly, she put him in his small bed, bringing the furs up to his chin. She stroked his hair gently.  
"Sleep well, little Rickon." With a kiss on his forehead, she bid him goodnight. As she neared the door she heard his little huffs of breath that meant he was asleep. Iona made sure to blow out the candles before she shut the door behind her.

Down the hall, they said goodnight to Bran, who was much more independent.

Finally, at Arya's room, Iona sat on the chair in the corner of the room and waited for her sister to get changed and get into bed.  
"I want to talk with you Arya. We did not get the chance to talk today, and I know you are not tired."  
"Are you really going to marry the Prince?" Arya asked, clambering into bed and pulling the covers up over her legs.  
"I believe so, yes. You must not be so negative. If I do, we will travel to Kings Landing where I will convince father to get you fighting lessons yes?"  
Her eyes lit up at that suggestion. "Really?"  
"Of course. I am sure there are lots of different classes. I was not going to allow you to be in Kings Landing without anything to do." Iona patted her sisters shoulder.  
"Sleep well. Tomorrow will be busy no doubt."  
Arya nodded and shuffled into a lying position.  
"And Arya?"  
"Yes, Iona?"  
"Please, try to be civil with the royal family - for my sake."  
Arya scowled, not replying though in all fairness, Iona didn't expect one. Blowing out the candles she left the room and shut the door behind her.

She nearly jumped out her own skin when she turned to walk back down the corridor and nearly ran into the only and only Prince Joffrey.  
She overplayed it, for his amusement. With her hand grasping at her chest she laughed nervously. She had to get him to fall for her, even if it meant playing afraid sometimes.  
"Sorry, did I frighten you, my lady?"  
"You did, my Prince. But that is no bother. Can I ask why you are up here, so far from the feast?"  
"I came to find you, my lady. I feared you might get lonely." From leaning against the wall, he pushed himself up and walked closer towards her.  
"That is very thoughtful of you, my Prince."  
He smirked at the comment. "Allow me to escort you back."  
"Of course."  
Shadowing him was the infamous Hound, Sandor Clegane. The right side of his face was hideous scarred from severe burns. It made many people look away but it did not bother Iona.  
Courteously, he held his arm out for her, and she graciously took it. She made sure to nod her head respectfully at the Hound.  
She had heard many stories about the Hound, and he was meant to be a brilliant fighter which caused her to admire him. Although a trained in archery and sword-fighting, she would never be an accomplished fighter, not as a woman - but she used that to her advantage.  
Iona made sure to note how Sandor Clegane looked rather taken aback by that action.

"I hear we are to share a bed one day." Joffrey announced, trying to elicit a response such as a blush or a stammer out of the girl on his arm. Unfortunately, he received neither.  
"So do I, my prince. Does it please you?"  
Iona was unaffected by his eyes raking her body. "I think it does."  
His tone had a slightly malicious tone to it.  
Iona really hoped all of the stories were true, because if so, they would get along perfectly.  
She longed for the day in the near future where she revealed her true nature to the future king of Westeros.


	4. Chapter 4

In the early hours of the next morning, Iona was woken by Rane.  
Still slightly drowsy, she had Rane assist her to dress and ready for today's hunting trip. This morning, the King and his party would accompany her father, her brothers and herself into the woods to hunt.  
This was another privilege that she had secured. She was no where near as good as her brothers when it came to hunting. She could hit her target, but not as skillfully as Robb or Jon.  
Iona also planned on making it a chance to show off to the Royal family. None of them knew that she did not act like a proper lady or that she was trained in any form of combat - it would be a shock for them and she was looking forward to their reaction.

With a flick of her wrist - a gesture Lyall had become accustomed too - her wolf trotted so she was beside her. Throwing a brief thanks at her handmaiden she left the room and made her way down to the courtyard.  
In the courtyard, she ignored the Kings Men as she approached her brother, who had her bow and sword leaning against a wooden post beside him.  
Seeing her march towards him, he grabbed them and held them out for her to take.  
"Thank you, Robb."  
"I do hope your ready to show off."  
"Always, brother, always." With a smirk on her face, she gratefully took the weapons.

It wasn't until she pulled up beside her father on a horse that the King and his eldest son noticed her.  
"You must be in the wrong place my lady." The King noted, and before Iona had the chance to reply, her father cut in for her.  
"Iona always accompanies us when we hunt. She is rather good at it herself." And much to Robb's expense he added "She's made more kills than Robb."  
From the Prince, the reaction is exactly what she had been hoping for - shock that quickly turned to admiration.  
"Well then - I look forward to seeing this."  
"So you should, Your Grace." She smirked. It could have been a risky move - cheeking the King, but he just grinned.  
Perhaps the Royal family were not so unappealing after all.

She dug her heel into the horse's rump and followed the party in a slow trot. She moved her way slowly through the small crowd to ride next to her brother, Robb. Robb chatted carelessly with their Father's ward, Theon Greyjoy.  
"How be you, Theon?" SHe asked courteously, though before he could answer she threw in "Ready to be reminded how much better of a shot I am?" Too many times had she heard his infamous speech of 'We're famous for our skills in archery... and love-making."  
Unable to think of a smart remark, he answered with "I ride better than you,"  
She quirked her eyebrows. "As you like to remind us, whenever the opportunity arises."  
"Now, now children." Robb teased, knowing what would come next.  
"The first one to the bridge before the woods will be the champion."  
Awkwardly they guided their horses to the edge of the group. Oblivious to the people beside them they both pushed the horses to go faster and tried to out-gallop one another.  
As they overtook the entire group the Crown Prince watched the girl who would soon be his bride to be. Behind him, the girl's father watched in slight disgust and embarrassment.  
Turning slightly to the Golden guard next to him he asked for his future wife to be brought to him.

When it was clear that Theon was in fact the better rider she cried "I yield, I yield. You win Greyjoy." Her breathing came out in pants due to the exhilaration, but soon returned to normal. She blew her lips like her horse, trying to blow the strands of hair out of her face. The rest was tied back, but some remained free and rather troublesome.  
Beside her a Golden Knight of the Kings Guard demanded her attention. "Prince Joffrey requires your company." was all he uttered before returning to whence he came.  
She shared and odd look with Theon before doing as her Prince commanded. Theon too slowed and returned to Robb's side.  
Getting her horse as close to Joffrey's as possible she said, "You asked for me, my Prince?"  
"Who was that boy you were riding with?"  
"My father's ward, your Grace. A childhood friend." Iona wouldn't give him anymore than that. She didn't fail to miss the hint of jealousy in his tone.  
"How long have you hunted, my lady?" He changed the subject quickly,  
"Since I convinced my mother to let me. I was ten when I managed it. What about you, your grace?"  
His tone radiated arrogance as he replied, "Since I could walk, I have always been a natural at it,"  
"I can imagine so, your Grace. I look forward to seeing your skills!"  
She quickly glanced around to catch a glimpse of the reactions of those around them, who had heard. Unnoticed by the Prince, the closest Guard did not look convinced. She had been right in her judgement of the previous statement being a lie.  
"What is your weapon of choice, my Prince?" She asked politely, feigning interest.  
"The crossbow."  
"Mm. Yes, a fine choice. It must be magnificent to pull a trigger here and to watch something die over there."  
To hear that come from her lips delighted him.  
"Yes, it is."

On Joffrey and the King's part, this marriage would not be difficult. Iona knew, however, that the Queen would require a lot of work. She was going to have to manipulate and lie to her best ability. Though to her, it did not matter what the cost was, as long as it ensured she would one day sit beside Joffrey as the Queen of Westeros. She had to get Joffrey, and the Queen wrapped around her little finger to be truly successful.  
Nothing would deter her, and nothing would get in the way of her becoming Queen.


	5. Chapter 5

Today was the day when Iona would dine with the Queen - her future mother-by-law. She could sense that the Queen was not fond of her, or any of the Starks for that matter. That did not affect Iona, for Iona knew how to play the game. She would be prepared to say anything if it meant winning over Cersei Lannister.  
The servants ushered her into the small dining hall which had been allocated to the Baratheon-Lannister family for the duration of their stay. This morning it would only cater to the Queen and her twin brother - which gave Iona the best opportunity.  
Joffrey was absent because he had accompanied his father in yet another hunting trip. Iona had excused herself from this one, because she felt terrible on Robb's behalf due to the fact that last time she had made more kills than him - or at least that's what she told them.  
As she entered she smiled graciously at the Queen. Yes, thank you for allowing me to dine in mine own home.  
Confidently she sat in the chair directly across from Cersei and bid them both a good morning.  
"Little Wolf, you look so... radiant!" The Queen gushed.  
"Thank you, your Grace, but nothing can compare to your magnificence."  
The niceness was for show - even between the three of them. They all knew that this would be an interrogation.  
The Queen did not hold back, "Do you look forward to Wedding my son?"  
She replied instantaneously, "Of course, you Grace. Nothing pleases me more. I thank you also for taking me to the south, away from this dreary cold."  
Ser Jaime's eyebrows quirked at this remark. Cersei's face gave away no emotion.  
"Not fond of your home, my lady?" He asked  
"Even us northerners feel the cold, Ser. Myself more so than others."  
"Do you know what marrying my son will mean?"  
Iona chose her answer to this carefully. She could not make it obvious that her main intention was to become Queen and remove Cersei from the post - that would not go down well.  
"It will mean that I will give him heirs. It will mean that the most powerful house of the south and the north will be joined-"  
"It will also mean that one day you will be Queen."  
"Of course, your Grace." She paused for a moment before bursting into a speech that she had thought meticulously about. "I do hope you know that for your Son's safety and happiness I would betray my own family."  
The Queen pretended to look taken aback and Iona would not have it.  
"I know you do not like us your Grace, and I quite agree with you. My father is so honour-bound that it will one day destroy him. I often think I was born into the wrong family, I admit. They are all to good. They do not understand the horrors of the world, yet, I do. So please your Grace, hear this. Truly, if Joffrey's happiness meant the destruction of my family, so be it. My loyalty and allegiance lies with no one but the King and his family. What ever you ask of me, I shall do."  
Jaime and Cersei shared a look of surprise and confusion. Jaime was more than happy with the girls statement, and had detected no hint of her lying.  
"You will suit my nephew well, Lady Iona."  
"I like to think so, Ser."  
After a moment, Cersei spoke.  
"Meet with me at the broken tower at noon. You can escort me to the Godswood. I still have not seen it."  
After her departure Jaime turned to his sister and asked,  
"What are you doing?"  
"I am going to see if she breaks."

Iona arrived at the broken tower fifteen minutes before she was supposed to. It was never a bad thing to be prompt. She paced back and forth hoping to pass time quickly this way.  
Glancing up, she spotted her brother, Bran, sitting on the window ledge of the tower. Iona rolled her eyes and sighed. Her mother had commanded him not to go climbing.  
She was about to shout him down, when suddenly he flew out backwards and plummeted to the ground. The only way he could have fallen unnaturally backwards was if someone had pushed him, and the flash of golden hair gave everything away. Ser Jaime had pushed her brother out of the window to his possible death.  
Iona could not do anything as her brother landed on the floor a few metres away from her feet. A sickening crack revealed the breaking of several bones.  
What did she do? She could not betray Jaime Lannister, because that would ruin any chance of a good relationship with the Queen and her family. How would she cover this up?  
Did she leave him here, or did she call for help and give a false story?

She turned away from her broken brother and marched towards the entrance.  
There she waited anxiously for Ser Jaime to exit. It was not difficult to piece together why he had done it. She had no doubt that Bran must have seen something he should not have - that being the Queen with her brother.  
First, came the Queen looking rather disheveled.  
Her eyes widened at the sight of Iona. How would they explain this now? She'd have to get them both killed.  
"My Queen, no. You must go to the Godswood as fast as you can. Wait for me there. Do you understand your Grace?"  
Cersei was shocked, so shocked that she could not even utter a sentence.  
"I told you did I not, if your family's safety meant the destruction of mine, then so be it. Go to the Godswood and wait for me there. I will fetch Ser Jaime and I will throw them off, I promise you."  
"How can I trust you?"  
"You cannot. But I am all you have. If I were to betray you, you could have my head. Now go!"

The Queen could not disagree with that, and so she fled. When she had gone, Iona ran into the broken tower to find Jaime.  
When he saw her, he looked ready to attack.  
"No. me out, I will tell them I found him, and you ran over to help me. We will say he slipped. He climbs all the time - it was bound to happen at some point. Cersei is waiting in the Godswood. If this all goes to plan, no one will suspect you. Am I clear?"  
"Crystal. If you try anything funny, I will-"  
"Kill you. Yes, yes. Now come one."

He followed her out to the distorted body of Bran Stark, who lay motionless upon the ground.  
In a few moments, Iona had tears streaming down her face.  
"Oh, Gods!" She wailed. She gestured for Jaime to pick her brother up.  
He scooped him up into his arms and followed her back into the town, trying his hardest to look worried.  
"Please! Oh Gods Please! Someone fetch the Maester!" Iona screamed "My brother! My brother! Oh Gods!"

Bran was somehow still breathing. The Maester had said that he had suffered great trauma to his spine. He could still make it, but he would probably never walk again.  
When Iona had 'calmed down', she explained everything. Jaime stood at the edge of the room, ready to destroy her if she revealed anything.  
"I-I was walking to the Godswood, ready to meet the Queen, and he was there - high up on the broken tower. He was right at the top when I saw him miss his grasp and oh Gods! He fell so quickly." She sobbed, falling into her father's arms. "I ran for help, and Ser Jaime was coming from the Solar. He carried Bran back here... If he had not have been there, I do not know if Bran would still be alive."  
She took a big, dramatic breath before she said, "I left the Queen in the Godswood. Oh, she will hate me! Ser Jaime, please, go and find her. Bring her back and apologise for me?"  
"Of course, my Lady."

Now, if that had not been enough to convince the Queen how loyal she was to the King and his family, she did not know what would.


	6. Chapter 6

Ser Jaime Lannister had done as he was told, and journeyed to the Godswood to collect his sister. He found her, seated beneath the Weirwood Tree, her furs wrapped tightly around her. She was glancing around nervously.

When she saw Jaime, she jumped up.  
"Well?"  
"She did as she told us. She gave a false story. Lady Iona said she had seen him slip with her own eyes, and when she called for help, I came to her rescue. As of you, she said that you were waiting for her in the Godswood." Jaime explained.  
"I did not think she would go that far." Cersei admitted.  
"She saved our hides, and for that I am admittedly grateful. She knows about us - she is smart enough to put two and two together."  
"Yes. Did she-"  
"No. Iona put on a damn good show. She was very convincing - I almost believed it myself."  
"What are we going to do? What if she tells someone?!"  
"She won't. Who would believe her if she did? Besides, I think she cares too much for Joffrey to do anything."  
"A silly little girl." The Queen hissed.  
"Now, do not be too hard on her. She has just watched me push her brother from a window and not thought twice about it. To me, that means something."  
The Queen was not sure what to do. 

* * *

Once again in her breeches and tunic, she waited on the outskirts of Winterfell, awaiting the Prince.  
As she watched him approach, she noticed that he had complied to her wishes, by inviting Ser Ilyn Payne instead of the Hound as his guard.  
"My lady,"  
"My Prince. Come, we must go, or we will run out of time."  
With that, she kicked her horse into a gallop, along a route the horse knew all to well - far from Winterfell. Joffrey effortlessly kept up with her, watching from behind. Her hair, was tied up in a traditional northern style, but was loose enough to fly back in the wind.  
Slowing as the entered a wood, Joffrey was able to ride by her side.  
"Why have you brought me so far, my lady?"  
"I have a surprise for you, my Prince."  
Dismounting, she patted her horse appreciatively on the neck before beginning to walk off. The Prince clambered off his horse and jogged after her. Silently, Ilyn Payne followed, constantly on guard for anything that might threaten the Prince.

Iona grabbed the Princes arm and squeezed it in excitement.  
"You are going to love it." She laughed, throwing her head back.

Merely metres away, tied to a post slouched a man. This man was bound and gagged. When he saw Iona approach he started to struggle tirelessly. His screams were nothing more than muffled nonsense.  
"What is this? My lady, shield your eyes. This is not for you to see!"  
"Oh no, your Grace. I put him there. This is your surprise." She explained, nearing the man and crouching down beside him. "You see, this pervert had been making my handmaiden very uncomfortable. That was not acceptable. So, I lured him here... and well - taught him a lesson."  
Joffrey could not even utter a word.  
"I was going to kill him, but I thought -'Maybe my betrothed should see what I am truly like. I would not want to marry someone without them knowing the real me.' I also thought that perhaps you would like to do something - to punish a man for bothering me, and something of mine."  
Finally, he spoke. "Of course. Anyone who ever bothers us shall suffer at our hand."  
She smiled sweetly. "I do think, that I deserve the ability to cause his suffering, but you should have the honour of ending his life."  
Joffrey's eyes gleamed. _She really was the one._  
They did just that.  
As she flayed, and cut and tormented the man, Joffrey realised why she had asked for Ilyn Payne - the man who could not talk, and therefore could not reveal her secret.  
Watching her was so exciting. When he finally was given the knife, he shoved the knife through the man's left eye socket.  
Instantaneously, he threw the knife to Ilyn Payne who caught it and wiped it clean. Marching up to Iona, he grabbed her and pulled her against him.  
"That was a brilliant surprise."  
"I should hope so your Grace." She smirked. As he leant in, to kiss her, she quickly removed herself from his grasp and sashayed away, to Ilyn Payne to retrieve her knife.  
"Come, we must go. People will be missing us." 

* * *

"Mother!" Joffrey yelled, wandering her temporary chambers, searching for her.  
"Yes, my love?" She called, from the sofa in the living area.  
"I have decided that I will marry the eldest Stark girl."  
Cersei tried her hardest not to go sour-faced. "You were going to anyway."  
"I know, but when we get back to the Capital, I want the wedding planning to start immediately." He demanded.  
"Why, is this, darling boy?"  
"I spent some time with her today. I like her."  
"What about her?"  
"She... she isn't boring like the others."  
Cersei was struggling. Iona Stark had betrayed her family, for her sake and had now won over Joffrey - who was almost impossible to please. There was definitely something special about her.  
It was time for another talk.


	7. Chapter 7

The door creaked as she opened it. Slowly and calmly she approached her mother, who sat next to her brothers bed. Catelyn looked weary and exhausted, as well as pale. Iona was starting to see her mother's cheekbones that had become more prominent. Looking after Bran gave her no time to eat.  
Catelyn had refused to leave his side since the incident, and it was clear to see.  
Her mother did not even look up at the sound of her footsteps. Lightly, she placed her arms around her mother, in an embrace.  
"I know you have heard it many times, but I promise you, Bran will make it through. He is a strong boy. He is your son."  
"Can you be certain that he slipped?"  
"How could you ask such a thing? Of course he did. I would never lie to you, Mother." 

* * *

Mounting her horse, she was promptly approached by Prince Joffrey.  
"Will you be riding beside me, my lady?"  
"If it is your wish, my Prince."

As she rode away, she looked over her shoulder, and waved at her family. As expected, her mother was absent, still at Bran's bedside. Robb looked tearful, and Rickon was sobbing in his arms.  
Sansa, Arya and Jon travelled with her, though Jon would soon be departing for the Wall.  
Iona was heading South, to Kings Landing. It was one step closer to becoming Queen. One day, she would be. She just hoped it would be someday soon.

Riding along side Joffrey, she plotted ways to manipulate him.  
He was cruel, and sadistic like her, but if she was not careful - he would make people hate him, and then when he was King, he probably wouldn't last. Too many people would try to destroy him.  
She had to make him like her - to the many, she was delightful, lovable and kind, though truly she was hideous.  
That was Iona's mission - for the time leading up to their marriage: to make the people love him... to make the people love her.

Joffrey talked idly at her, and she listened whole-heartedly, to please him.  
She made a side note that she also needed to improve her relationship with the current Queen, as well as the rest of them.  
Myrcella and Tommen, as well as Tyrion and Jaime. Tyrion was heading to the Wall for a time, but when he returned, she would dive straight in.  
She needed to make Myrcella and Tommen love her - that would definitely give her an advantage against the Queen. She needed them to sing her praises.

Ever since Iona had revealed her true self to the Prince, he seemed to want to spend every moment he could with her.  
Iona had made the most of it. She teased the Prince with fleeting, heated glances, and light touches. She still had not allowed him the pleasure of kissing her - that would be saved for a special moment. Iona knew all too well that it would just make him want her more.

She couldn't help but wonder if and when she would ever see her brother again. Her mother was not important - Iona had never been the favoured child - no, that was Sansa; 'the perfect lady'.  
Iona hated the world she lived in. All that matter of women was their wealth and ability to bear children - it was pathetic. Men were able to do much more exciting things, and it angered her.  
When she was Queen, that would be the first challenge she would tackle.

After the incident involving her brother, she had only spoken with the Queen twice. By the second time, she was at least convinced that the Queen believed in her loyalty.  
Iona knew that the Queen would not fall for incessant compliments as most did - she was too smart for that. She would build a relationship with the Queen by common interests. She was insulted that the Queen was still not fond of her, considering she had lied about the near-death of her brother on her behalf.

In light of recent events, that was the least of her worries. Her youngest sister had found a friend in the butcher's boy. They fought playfully almost everyday. Much to her annoyance and her sister's misfortune, one day she, along with her future husband happened upon them during a stroll. This would not end well and she knew it, but she let it happen because she needed to see how the Prince would react to such things so that she would know how to handle them. Iona could already predict it; he would try to impress her by being torturous like herself - but in front of those who did not know what she was truly like, he would just look horrendously cruel and unjust. Still, it happened.

In front of them, by the waters edge, Arya and the butcher's boy fought with sticks. Iona did note that her sister was fighting rather impressively.  
"What is this?" The Prince asked, his voice dripping with distaste.  
"Nothing, my lord. She asked my to fight with her." The boy was quick to answer.  
"It's 'My Prince', actually. You're fighting with a stick - and a lady. That is not a good thing to do."  
"Leave him alone!" Arya yelled.  
Joffrey threw a glare at Iona's sister, but she did not back down from it.

Iona approached her sister as Joffrey drew his sword.  
"Arya, go. I will sort this out."  
Arya was reluctant, but when Iona glared at her and clenched her jaw she left, with her wolf in tow.

"Joffrey. No." Iona said loudly, gently. She reached out and laid a hand on his arm. "Boy, wait there. We will talk in a moment."  
Aside, several strides from the boy who was cowering, eyes wide, she murmured to Joffrey "Go fetch the Hound."  
With one movement of his hand, the Hound emerged from the woods - where he had been keeping a close eye on the situation.  
"Pretend to fight him and let him hit you. Order his death for attacking his Prince."  
Joffrey looked uncertain and even offended by the remark. Gently, she caressed his cheek and his face softened. "Trust me."

Iona slipped into Arya's room as soon as she had the chance. Arya was curled up on the bed - grumbling to herself.  
When she saw her older sister, she shot up and flung herself at her. "HOW COULD YOU? YOU LET HIM KILL HIM. I HATE YOU!"  
Iona did not fight her sister, but pulled her against her in a hug. "I tried, I am so deeply sorry."  
Her sister finally let go of all of the pent up anger and emotion; and cried into Iona's dress.  
Iona stroked her sisters hair comfortingly. "There was nothing I could do. Do not blame the Prince. They dueled, and Joffrey was losing. The Hound walked up, and misunderstood the situation. He was only doing his job."  
"Well, I hate them! I'll destroy them all."


	8. Chapter 8

Arya still had not forgiven the Prince.  
As Iona approached King's Landing - that was the last of her concerns. To the Prince's delight (and not having much other choice with his unrelenting badgering about it), she rode on his horse, clinging onto him.  
Her arms were tight around his waist, and the closeness of the pair made the crowds gasped as the horse trotted towards the Red Keep. This was unheard of, and quite frankly inappropriate for an unmarried couple. Iona and Joffrey could not care less about their opinions.  
These people would one day be their people, and they would have to accept their ways and rules. With such high statuses, they could do as they so desired.  
They revelled in the gasps and attention that they got. Joffrey leant back into Iona, and she held him tighter.  
She made sure to smile warmly at the people as she passed.

In their weeks of travelling, Iona had grown very fond of the Prince, and had learnt how he worked and behaved. It would be soon that she would start to sort him out.  
For now, she was mesmerised with the city. This was so much better than she could have ever imagined. Everything was so beautiful and grand. This was her home now.

Slowly, under the lead of the hound who rode not so far in front of them, they came to a stop. In front of the red Keep there were no crowds - they had all been cleared for the Royal family's safety. Quickly checking if anyone was looking, Iona placed a light but lingering kiss on his neck, almost on his collarbone. Joffrey froze but quickly relaxed and climbed off the horse, to assist his Lady. She took his hand, revelling in the look he gave her. Together they left, and Joffrey was allowed to escort her to her chambers - with an escort of course.  
That escort, was as expected, the Hound.

"Mother has asked for my presence in the Throne room. I shall call for you later, my love."  
She smiled graciously and watched his retreating back. She sat on her new bed as servants carried trunks of items in.  
Over the last few weeks, he had insisted on calling her 'love', to show his affection for her to the world. Sansa was not pleased by it.  
Though Iona did not show it, she loved it.

When the last trunk was put down, before they could start unpacking, she called for them to leave.  
Her room had been placed not far from Joffrey's - and there was an obvious reason for that. There was an issue though... How would they access each others rooms without getting caught?  
Iona had her bets on secret passage ways. Making sure the door was shut and locked, she began to explore. The walls were decorated with tapestries, and behind each and everyone of them, she pushed and shoved the walls.

Pushing against the penultimate wall, she felt a little give. She pushed and shoved as hard as she could, and finally the door opened. It led into passage ways just as she had predicted. They were too dark to be able to do anything.  
Instead of going back for a light, like a normal person would, she titled it an adventure, and used her hands to feel along the walls. Taking careful, small steps she edged her way around.  
On their way through the castle, Joffrey had pointed out his room. All she had to do was figure out how to get to it from the exit she'd taken. Running over the directions she had taken in her head (this skill had developed from her hunting), she was able to guide herself through the doors until she found a door.  
She tugged on it relentlessly for a few minutes before it finally came free.  
 _Please, let this be his._  
She tentatively walked in, not closing it behind her in case she had to make a quick escape.

The room entertained a four poster bed, and on the wall opposite was a mounted crossbow. She was quite positive that this belonged to Joffrey.  
Taking a risk, she sat on the edge of the bed - awaiting his return. She could not be sure that he would come back to his room - and she was not sure that it was his, but she sat calmly upon it anyway.

After what felt like hours, the door opened and Joffrey strolled in, and Iona sent a silent prayer to the Gods.  
At first he did not notice her, but when he did, he froze - not realising who it was.  
"How did you get in here?" He approached her calmly, taking her hands in his.  
"If I tell you, will you promise not to overreact?"  
He said nothing but tilted his head.  
"I found a secret passageway that leads from your room to mine. I thought that we could use it to..."  
"A secret passageway? In the walls?"  
"Yes. Looks as if no one has used them in years. They are ours to use."  
She could see the worry in his eyes but said nothing.

"You know, my Prince - that it is so warm, here in the south, that I could not bring myself to wear small clothes under my gown today." Iona noted innocently.  
He swallowed, and choked slightly. "Oh."  
Iona enjoyed his innocence. It was easy to forget that he was just a boy. Then again, she was just a Lady. However, by the sounds of it, she had been much more exposed to the sexual world than him.  
For the sake of a complete marriage, she had remained a virgin, but she had also wandered through brothels or stumbled into them during adventures.  
It was normal to her - it was not something to hide; at the end of the day, it was a natural thing.

She put a hand on the back of his neck and tugged him down towards her. She shuffled back, bringing him with her until he was resting above her.  
Lightly, she reached up and placed a kiss upon his lips. As she pulled away, she saw that his eyes were still closed.  
That was better than what she had expected.  
It was not long before Joffrey leant down to kiss her again - this time more passionately and heavily.

She played with the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled away to speak, smirking and breathless.  
"Was that worth the wait?"  
As Joffrey opened his mouth to speak, there was a knock on his door.

Hastily he called, "Wait! Do not enter."  
Her eyes wide, but grinning, she clambered from underneath him.  
"You said you would call for me. I will be waiting in my chambers." She called, and with a fleeting glance, she disappeared back into the passageways.


	9. Chapter 9

Joffrey had done as he had promised - and called for her.  
With the Hound at their heel, as well as her wolf, Lyall, Prince Joffrey took Iona on a tour, through the Red Keep. This included the dungeons. At the very heart of them was a torture chamber. It held a number of different devices, all for inflicting horrendous pain upon criminals. It was perfect. At some point, Iona would have to pay a visit to use them.

That was all they did, before parting once again to dine with their families.  
Iona sat at the head of the table, opposite her father, with her sisters either side of her.  
"How are you finding the weather, Sansa?" Iona asked, making conversation and breaking the awkward silence.  
"Delightful, but I am yet to become accustomed too it. We must do something about our wolves though. I think they are suffering."  
"Yes. We must. Perhaps getting them sheared would benefit them?" Her father, Lord Stark suggested.  
"Sheared? They'd look ugly. Like the Prince." Arya huffed.  
Iona threw her a glare. "Watch your tongue. We are not safe here."  
Ned shared a knowing look with his daughter. He understood it as his daughter caring about her families safety, and that she was looking out for them, being smart enough to know the truth, when in reality, all she was concerned with was convincing her family that she cared, as to not reveal her only true care in the world; herself being Queen one day.

As soon as she was done eating, not wanting to make polite conversation any longer, she excused herself and retired to her bedchambers.  
Taking a torch this time, she returned to the tunnels, and found her way to Joffrey's room - making sure to remember the route.  
It was much easier than in the darkness, but Iona would make sure to improve her skills of moving around in it - it would someday prove a useful skill to have.  
Lightly, she placed her ear against the door, having heard something coming from the room. After a few moments, she could make out a muffled voice. She could not decipher any words, but she could tell who it was. Cersei.  
Spinning on her heel, Iona quickly made her way back to her room. Tomorrow, she would speak to Joffrey. It was time that Cersei started to realise that she now belonged in the background.

Mid morning, after she had broken her fast, Iona had readied herself to go into the City. She had made her father aware of it, but aside from him, no one else knew of her plans. Unfortunately, she had to wear one of her dresses, so that she was recognisable.  
Only asking the company of Jory, as her 'protector' they left the castle. She would have rather left Jory behind, but it was her fathers wish and besides, she needed someone to witness what she was about to do.  
Leaving the castle, she quickly added a Kings Guard to her party - as she realised she did not know her way around the city.  
"Flea bottom, my lady?" The guard asked, surprised by her request.  
"Yes, would you show us the way?"  
"It would be unsafe-"  
"What would be unsafe, Ser, is if I was to find it myself. It is not the poor that I should be scared of"  
The knight in his golden helm nodded once, before setting off, urging Iona to follow. As she walked the streets she made mental notes of directions. She managed to see how most people's faces lit up with surprise as she walked past them. They already knew who she was - good. The transition from the streets of Kings Landing to flea bottom was astounding. Jory spoke like a true handmaiden, much to Ionas amusement "My lady, your dress"  
"Can be cleaned." The poor of kings Landing did not know who she was, but were taken aback by the kind smiles that were given to them as she walked past. Someone of nobility, willingly in Flea Bottom? Unheard of.

Seeing a mother and a child, resting on the dirt floors, Iona stopped, dead in her tracks and slowly crouched down, so that she could be eye level with them.  
Looking sorrowful, but smiling gently at them both she said. "Hello, I am Iona Stark."  
"Good day, m'lady."  
"No, no, no need for that." Noticing the wiry state of them, she asked a question she already knew the answer to "Have you eaten?"  
"Cannot afford to m'lady." The mother admitted, her face overcome with embarrassment.  
"Is there not a soup kitchen that you could visit?"  
The small shake of the woman's head caused Iona to frown.  
Looking at the child, she smiled warmly. "What is your name?"  
"Elyssa,"  
"We cannot allow anyone to go hungry - especially not someone as young as Elyssa, can we?" Iona stated to anyone who was listening as she stood up.  
"The Prince will hear of this, I will arrange for a place of shelter, and a soup kitchen to be built. Though I have nothing on me now, I will come tomorrow with food, and blankets. Spread the word. In the square not far from here, I will be there tomorrow to welcome all in need."

Many fell to there knees, and many made cries of thanks.  
Iona smiled graciously. This was going as well as planned. She ignored Jory's arguments, and revelled in the crowds. Any smart woman knew that you had to win over the love of the many, and in this case, the many were the poor.

"A soup kitchen?" Joffrey asked in disbelief, saying the words as if they left a sour taste in his mouth.  
"Yes," Grabbing his hand as he paced, and pulling him next to her she replied, "If you are to be King one day, you must give the people reason to love you."  
Tentatively stroking his cheek, she continued, "Though the pleasures we enjoy in private, if you want to rule happily, and for many years, we must convince them that you are kind, and giving."  
"Fear is the key to ruling."  
"No, The Mad King ruled with fear, and look where that got him." Iona argued. "Just trust me. Though we do revel in the pain of others, and like to watch people suffer, we do not think that in public!"  
"So you expect me to give to these people, the filthy people to make people like me."  
"When you give something, people are forever grateful. If you supply these people with food, it will allow them to live - and they will be in your debt - they will remember that you gave them life. If they do not like you, it gives them reason to rebel, and even with armies, the rebels will always win."  
He leant in to kiss her, and smirking, she shot up, and walked back towards the entrance to the tunnels.  
Sighing heavily, in frustration, he said, "I will do as you have asked. As heir to the throne, I can do whatever I desire. If you are wrong about this though..."  
"I won't be, my love. Trust me."


	10. Chapter 10

As Iona had predicted, the event in the square had gone perfectly. She spent the entirety of the next day helping to distribute and serve soup and bread to the poor of King's Landing. She had seen thousands come and go, granting each and everyone with food, a blanket and a blessing.  
The Kitchens of the surrounding areas had been paid well for their services, and for the never-ending supply of soup and bread which had been made every minute of the day to keep up with demand.  
Iona had even convinced her betrothed to come along for a few moments, to announce the plans of several soup kitchens. This had earnt him the respect and gratitude of them all, and Iona could tell he was pleased by it.  
At his words they had all kneeled and made cries of thanks, and he had struggled to keep the smirk off his face.

Iona had made sure not only to spread good word of the Prince, but to make sure she was known amongst the many. She made sure that they knew that she, Iona Stark, future Queen of Westeros was the one who had instigated it all, and was the one who had worked hard for many hours in the sun to ensure their comfort.  
She was not disappointed.

The following day was sure to be a long day.  
She was forced into a gown, for the sake of her sister, to attend a tourney which had been held in her father's honour. She only cared for tourneys if she could compete in them, and in this, she could not... Well, not as herself.  
Shooing her handmaiden out, she pulled on breeches, underneath her dress.  
Then, she left her room and made her way down to meet her father, so that he could walk her and her sisters to the stands.

Iona sat between her father and sister, Sansa. Joffrey sat in the royal stands with his father and family. His father was already drunk. Iona could not wait to see the day when he died and the crown was passed onto Joffrey, who would be one day worthy of it - after many sessions with Iona. They would not be an embarrassment to the realm when they ruled.  
She had to focus to stop herself from jumping up and yelling at the jousters, either in support or neglect.  
Halfway through the day she excused herself, saying she would return to her chambers, though she managed to sneak into the tents of the competitors. Bribing a squire, she was able to convince him to dress her and then to go and announce that a Ser 'Wolfe' had joined the list.  
She prayed that she would not be put against the Mountain - she could compete well, but not against him.  
She marched out with her visor down, and mounted the horse that was lead to her.  
She addressed the royal family before readying herself to charge at her opponent. Her opponent wasn't particularly renowned for jousting, but he was certainly good at it. Iona had faith in her abilities and just wanted to hear the applause when she won.  
Charging into a gallop, with the heavy jousting pole steady in her grasp she charged towards him. There was an overwhelming crash, and Iona found herself still on her horse, and her opponent not.  
As she had expected, there was an uproar of applause and cheers, and she dismounted her horse and took a bow. This was crucial moment - did she reveal herself, or not. Her decision was swayed when the king beckoned her towards the stand and demanded that she reveal herself. Tugging off her helmet, anyone who was close enough to see gasped. Her father looked shocked and slightly disappointed, though that did not phase her.  
"Your Majesty,"  
"Iona Stark?" The king bellowed "Gods! You never fail to surprise us!" A roar of laughter escaped the king and he applauded her.  
Her betrothed's face was unreadable.

He stormed off, and beckoned her to follow.  
The Queen was glaring at her and only then did her smile falter. She had needed to impress her, but at the end of the day, one day she would be Queen, not Cersei, and then her opinions would not matter. She bid them all farewell and followed Joffrey into the keep, all the way to his room. The Hound had followed, but there was no one else as everyone was still at the tourney.  
"How dare you make of fool of me like that!" Joffrey seethed, glaring at her.  
He tried to intimidate her with his height, but he sadly failed - being the same height as her.  
A look of pure fury brushed her face before she angrily replied, "Make a fool of you?! You should be proud of me."  
"You are a lady - and you have just jousted against a man!"  
"It may pain you to remember that I won! Lady? Why does that limit me?! Have you not heard the stories? Nymeria... all of those. They were women who fought and won for their kingdoms." Iona growled, clenching her fists.  
"If you are to be my wife, then you will learn to-"  
"If you are to be my husband you will learn to respect me and my wishes. If you want a pathetic, submissive little bitch who dreams of dresses and kittens, marry my sister." She hissed before going taking a step towards him threateningly, though she changed her mind, spun on her heel and marched out of the room, fuming.

Joffrey was left there, taken aback by her behaviour. He had never been treated like this - ever. It was rather a wake up call.  
He had to give himself a moment to recover.  
How dare she speak to him in such a way? He was the Prince!  
Iona was just like him, and he loved her for it. He had such an admiration for her, that he dare not show in public. Perhaps this had been refreshing... and was actually a good thing. Joffrey was so exhausted by people wrapping him in a woollen blanket. Iona was a fresh, cold douse of water that made him feel so good.  
Though she would not be allowed to storm away from him without repercussions.


	11. Chapter 11

For the rest of the day, Iona spoke to no one but Rane.  
Her little sister Arya, had run into her rooms and showered her with praise, but Iona just thanked her and shooed her out. She was going to remain in her room and refuse to do anything, but then she remembered that it would make people think she was weak. People would think that she had been locked away in embarrassment. Iona would not allow them to think this.  
That evening, in a tunic and breeches, she marched out of the tower and walked the streets with her chin up.

Her walk was stopped when a young boy ran up to her, panting.  
"Can I help you?"  
"You're Iona Stark, m'lady?"  
She cocked an eyebrow, "Yes?"  
"I shouldn't be telling you, but the Prince plans to do a most awful thing?"  
Trying her hardest not to swear aloud, she urged the boy to reveal all.  
"You're direwolves, m'lady. He wants them killed at tomorrow's tourney!"  
"How do you know this?" She hissed  
"I'm a coal boy. I was doing my duty, and I heard him talking to Ser Ilyn!"  
Clenching her fists, with the look of absolute fury on her face, she barked a thank you and took off running back towards the Tower of the Hand. Iona had to find the wolves and fast.  
Changing her mind, and her direction, she sprinted to the stables.  
The stable boy looked from the horse to her in shock.

"I need a carriage and three crates - tonight."  
"I will do my best, m'lady."  
"You must - and tell no one of who asked you. I will pay you well for your service and your silence."  
He bowed, and with a wave of her hand, he went to do as she had bid.

In the tower of the Hand, she sought out the wolves, one of which was not with her mistress, Lady, and the other who was.  
Iona had to tell her sister that she wanted to walk them around the gardens to scare all of the servants - and then convince Arya that she did not need to come.  
Three direwolves, all on leads, walked by one woman was definitely a sight to see. They were all so well behaved and it did no doubt break her heart having to do this.  
The long walk, that felt like a walk of penance, Iona prepared herself for the backlash of her sisters' reactions when they found out.  
Iona did not return to the stables before she had someone to drive the carriage.

On of her father's loyal guards would be sure to carry out the task.  
"Paxley, I ask a great favour of you."  
"What is it, my lady?" He asked, eying the direwolves in confusion.  
"The direwolves need to be returned to Winterfell, and it needs to be done quickly."  
"May I ask why, my lady?"  
"No, you may not. It needs to be done, and they need to go tonight. I need you to do this for me."  
"That is a big ask, my lady-"  
"And it is one that I beg you to do. You are loyal to my father, and would do anything to ensure his family's safety and happiness, yes?"  
Paxley nodded once, his face sincere.  
"Then do this for me, please. I will assure that you and your family are greatly rewarded - just as my family will be if you do this."  
"Does your father know of this?"  
"Yes. There is no time though Sir, please. You must leave shortly - I will escort you to the stables, and here - take this for your journey."  
Into his hand, she shoved a bag of gold that she had acquired from the bottom of her trunk (a secret stash that she had gathered over the years in case of an emergency).

Reluctantly, he followed her and helped her as she loaded each wolf into a crate, large enough to house them comfortably and then the crates onto a cart.  
"Go now! Go now and do not stop until you are a day's ride away. May the Gods be with you. Go!"

The Prince's behaviour at the next day of the tourney was comical.  
He lounged in his chair as if he were King, smirking to himself and looking down upon others as if they were ants.  
Iona desperately looked forward to seeing his reaction when he realised what had happened.  
Eventually it was time, and he took to the middle of the podium.  
"For my darling betrothed, Iona, I have arranged a surprise. Please, come and join me."  
People cheered and applauded her as she walked to join him. She acted surprised and slightly embarrassed. Iona didn't forget to make sure she looked adoringly at the Prince at all times whilst approaching him.

Shortly, a boy came running up to the podium and muttered something to the Prince.  
 _The wolves were nowhere to be found._  
Joffrey's smirk fell from his face, much to Iona's delight.  
"There seems to be a slight hitch in the proceedings. Please, go on."  
That, she had not expected. The Prince had calmly made an excuse - he had not made an utter fool of himself by acting up. Though he did not realise, she was pleased that she was finally rubbing off on him. _It was about time._  
The Prince stormed off, after the boy and without his invitation, Iona followed.

She followed him into a tent.  
Strolling in, she watched as he yelled at the boy, demanding to know what had happened.  
The boy pleaded his lack of knowledge, and as he did, Iona crossed her arms and started to laugh.  
"Boy, you can leave us." She managed.  
Joffrey turned to her, saw her face and the penny dropped.  
Seething, he hissed, "You."  
"Do not _ever_ think to do such a thing to me again. If you ever think to do something like this again - I will hit back, and I promise you it will be twice as hard."  
Her tone had been low and threatening, and he seemed to get the idea.

"This is childish. We are not children - why are we arguing like them?" He asked, accusingly.  
"I don't know. Why are we?" Iona asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  
His attitude changed completely, and he walked towards her, chuckling.  
He reached out to stroke her face but she dodged his touch, denying him what he wanted most.  
"Why do you deny me? I am the Prince!" He stated, furious.  
Now there was an issue. Iona knew she had to keep him happy to be able to manipulate him, but she was so stubborn. Did she really give this up?  
He worked best when he thought he was in control (though unbeknownst to him - he never was. Iona was). Therefore, she forced a small smile and put his hand on her face, and leant into it.  
"I am sorry, my love. I was just so horrified by your behaviour. You were willing to kill my beloved pet for revenge! You said that we would make people suffer together - not destroy each other's happiness."  
Iona had to fight to keep the smirk off her face when his expression softened almost instantly and he said,  
"It was rash, it will not happen again. I promise that we will destroy enemies - not each other."  
He leaned into kiss her, and once more, she denied him. She managed to put a finger on his lips before they met hers.  
"Not now. People will be missing us,"  
The Prince watched agitatedly as she strutted back out to the tourney grounds, radiating victory.


	12. Chapter 12

Iona had spent the next two weeks devoting her time to the poor. It shocked her to think that no one before her had thought to do this, as the poor outnumbered the rich - so it was necessary for a good reign. She had divided her time between wandering the streets, spending time at orphanages and the soup shelter that she had put together. The shelter had been running flawlessly - there had been some trouble but now guards did regular rounds here and there had been nothing since. The cooks worked relentlessly to provide a constant stream of soup, but had assured Iona that they did it because they wanted too. As she went she was forced to sing Joffrey's praises. She has to make him sound good too, even though I'm reality, she wanted to smack him.  
It also happened to be an excuse to keep out of her sister's way for the time being. They had not reacted well to their wolves being snatched from them, but they would get over it in time. Besides, it was much better than the alternative. They would recover from this - they most likely would not have recovered from watching them be brutally slaughtered in front of their eyes. Nor would have the public.

For the past few days, she had stalked the torturers in the dungeon. The tunnels in the wall lead all over the castle - including the dungeons. From them she had carefully watched and studied the people. Iona learnt when they started and finished, and when the watchmen changed. She did this all in the hope to sneak within their ranks. She was so desperate to see someone suffer at her hand. This 'Prince's betrothed' persona was utterly monotonous - she needed some relief. Being kind and caring could only last for so long without a distraction.  
Tonight, Ser Ilyn Payne would be questioning a criminal, with a weasel named Jorrick Astonbury. His stature was wiry, and weak - he genuinely looked like a weasel. He wasn't one for torture - he was there to ask the questions whilst Ser Ilyn did the dirty work. Astonbury didn't have the strength to do anything interesting.  
That night, she carefully made her way to the dungeons, and as the weasel walked arrogantly past an alcove, her hands shot out and dragged him in. Slamming his head against the wall, he was instantly unconscious. Iona could not help but laugh. _What a weakling._  
With the hood adorned upon her head, she strolled out confidently, leaving his body lying in a heap.  
Her tunic was baggy enough as to not cling to her breasts, and she could easily pass for a man in her attire.  
In the torture chamber, Ser Ilyn already had a man spread eagled on the table. Grinning, she rubbed her hands together in excitement.  
Knowing he could not tell anyone, she slowly lifted her hood and revealed herself to Ser Ilyn, smirking. With a look of evil glee in her eye, she quietly put her finger to her lips in a 'Shush' gesture before dropping her hood again.  
He clenched his jaw but did nothing else.  
She strolled over to the rack of instruments and studied them carefully. Which to use?

She started with the hot iron. It was glowing red, and with glee, she lightly placed it on the man's shin. As expected, he screamed and Iona couldn't help but laugh. She had waited so long for this. As if it was a clothes brush, she rolled it up his leg, slowly, all the way up to his loin cloth. She did not actually know what he was being tortured for.  
From the extent of the torture, she had assumed it was something treasonous and Iona would not allow for treason under any circumstances. "Who do you serve?" She growled, so that her voice would sound like that of a man's.  
"No one!" He screamed. _That was the wrong answer_.  
"You serve the King!"  
"Yes! Yes! I serve the king!" He cried, and Iona wasn't about to let up that easily. "You do not seem to be telling the truth. You will not leave here until you swear yourself truly, and honestly to the King!" She yelled, digging the hot poker into the base of his foot as she came to the end. "YES!" He shrieked, flailing. "THE KING!"  
Iona would not let up until she had the chance to carve the word 'CRAVEN' into his chest. The screams that came from him made her grin from ear to ear. It really had been too long.  
"Throw him back in his cell." She spat, before storming out of the dungeons and back towards the tunnels.  
She made sure to drag the unconscious body of the weasel from the alcove into the middle of the hallway before leaving. Finally satisfied, she marched back up to her room.

The energy and excitement from that was relentless. She found herself unable to stay still for a good half hour. There was something else she needed to get done. The only downside to this mood is that she acted impulsively - and that was exactly what she would do now.  
Double-checking that her door was bolted, she once again disappeared into the tunnels and found her way through a familiar root - the root to Joffrey's chambers. Barely listening for a second to see if anyone was within, she heaved the door open and stormed into his room.  
He had been at his desk, though whatever he was doing went unseen by Iona. His head shot round, to her and his hard features relaxed when he saw it was her.  
"Iona," He stood up to meet her, and without addressing him as she should have, she approached him.  
 _Get what you want by using what you have_. Grasping his face between her two hands she did exactly what he wanted her to do. She kissed him hard upon the lips. At first he did not react, but then, he pulled her body flush against his. Making her voice as sensual as possible, she pulled away and breathed,  
"Tell me you love me, Joffrey Baratheon." Trying to coerce him, she raked her hands through his hair. Taking her face in his hands, as she had done to him before, he looked into her eyes and declared,  
"I love you, Iona Stark." As he kissed her again, all she could think of was how easily the Prince was manipulated, and how he gave out his emotions far too willingly to her.


	13. Chapter 13

Since being in King's Landing, Iona had gained two more ladies. They were passed off as a welcome gift from the King, but she knew very well that they were sent by the Queen to spy on her. When they were around, she had always made sure to say positive things about the Queen, whenever she could, though she was inconspicuous about it - for if it was too over the top, they would become suspicious. Thankfully though, even if she was too obvious, they would have been too dim-witted to realise.

It had been a while since Iona had let Joffrey kiss her. She did not know whether he meant what he had said, or whether he had just said it in the moment of passion - and she hated not knowing. Today, she would walk with him in the Gardens, which was the only place in public where they could be alone. That was except for the guards who followed them, Though they always stayed out of hearings distance. Iona met him where she always did - at the back entrance.  
The only setback was, that Joffrey expected her affection whenever he so wished. To start with it had been tedious and she had denied him, but as if happened more often, she found herself enjoying it. She grinned at him , and it was in no way feigned. Today she was genuinely pleased to walk with him, due to the fact that the Queen's spies would not cease with their unintelligent and frivolous gossip. Joffrey offered her arm and she graciously took it.  
"I have worked hard my love, to ensure you have a good name, and I am pleased to tell you that it has worked. The people sing your praises." "Good, though let us not speak of that. I long to claim you as mine - to not have to hide my affection for you. I shall discuss with my father a date for our wedding."  
She tried not to grin as she so wanted too. Iona was growing impatient. The sooner she married him, the easier it would be to claim the title of Queen when the King died - which would be undoubtedly soon, with the Gods blessing.  
"If it is your wish, my love."  
"It is."  
"I only have one request - that it be a very quiet affair, that can be done soon. That way, we can marry soon and any big celebrations can happen later - and we can show of to the world."  
"A good plan." Turning from her he sneered at a servant who's look lingered to long and snapped at him to leave.  
Thankfully, even though now he was now bearable to the public, he still remained the uncharismatic, insufferable person that he had always been behind closed doors. On one occasion, she had risked herself again, to return to the dungeons. However, this time, she had taken the Prince with her - but made sure that he kept his face hidden, as she did.  
He had waited in the tunnels whilst she knocked out the weasel, and when he came out, the look of adoration and amazement on his face was enough to keep her going for a few days. Her face had most definitely broken out into a smirk.

She scarcely had time to smile at his behaviour before she was called for my Rane who had come scampering down the gravel path.  
"M'lady! M'lady!" She cried, crushing her skirts in her hand as she held them up to run.  
"What is it?"  
"It's your father, m'lady. He's been injured."  
Dropping Joffrey's arm, she cried,  
"I'm sorry, my prince, but I must attend my father. We will resume later?"  
She did not wait for an answer as she sprinted off, leaving him standing there looking utterly bewildered. Iona urged her handmaiden to take her to her father immediately.  
"Do you know what happened?"  
"No, my lady. I was just sent to fetch you."  
Holding her skirts, she sprinted down the path as fast as she could, ignoring the gravel that dug into the soles of her feet through her shoes.  
As she ran past crowds of people, she noticed the lack of panic. Her father had just been injured and there was no panic! Why was there no panic? Her father was hurt!  
Her father did not matter to anyone other than the small group that included herself.

Until this moment, she had never actually considered the mortality of her father - or his importance to her.  
Though his honour would kill him one day, and he possessed many other fatal flaws, he was her father and she adored him. He had always given her the best advice, though most of it she ignored because it was to 'righteous'.  
The door burst open, and Iona saw the Maester by the father. It was his leg, which had been wrapped in many bandages, though was still drenched in blood. Slowly, she made her way to his other side and asked for a wet cloth. Gently. she wiped the sweat off his forehead and lightly kissed his cheek.  
"Iona,"  
"Father, don't speak. Do not waste your energy."  
Turning to the Maester, and one of her father's guard, who sat in the corner, she asked, "What happened?"  
"He was attacked my lady, by Jaime Lannister."  
"What?" She spat, "On what grounds?!"  
"Lady Catelyn has taken Lord Tyrion as prisoner, accusing him of the attempted murder of Bran, my lady. He wanted him released."  
"That is not the case! Of course it was not Lord Tyrion - he would not be able to do such a thing!" Iona cried, having to remove her hand from her father's face as she was starting to shake with anger. Of course, she knew for a fact that Tyrion had nothing to do with it.  
"Where is Jory?" She demanded,  
The guard slumped at the question, "Dead, my lady." He murmured, defeatedly.  
Iona choked.  
Ser Jaime could not be punished for this, but the guards could be. Unless they were a world away by now, they would not stand a chance against a vengeful Iona Stark.  
Clenching her jaw, she raised herself up, with a look of fury on her face.  
"Pycelle, look after my father." She commanded, and addressing the guard she asked, "Did you recognise any of the guards?"  
"Only one, my lady - Hargrave, he killed Jory, my lady. I am so sorry, my lady."  
"Do not be."  
With that, she stormed out of the room.  
How she would enjoy watching the light fade from his eyes.

Iona was not particularly fond of her family - only of it's reputation. How dare someone try to ruin it? They would pay - with their life.


	14. Chapter 14

"Why have you asked for me, Sister?" Sansa asked, strolling into Iona's chambers.  
It had been weeks, but in the last few days, Iona had managed to win round her sister's again. This was mostly due to the fact that she was forced to oversee them, seeing as her father was unable to do so. The sooner her father was recovered, the better.  
She knew that what she was about to ask would win her sister over, most definitely.  
"Please, take a seat."  
Sansa sat and smoothed out her skirts, not looking her sister in the eye.  
"Joffrey, and I, intend to marry, within the month."  
Sansa's head shot up,  
"We want it to be a silent affair, for now. We want to marry quickly, and have celebrations later. I want you to be my witness."  
Sansa was unable to speak for a moment.  
"You want me, to be your witness before the Gods?"  
"Yes, darling sister. I want for nothing more!" Iona crooned, reaching to take her sister's hand.  
"How could I say no? Of course I will do this for you!"  
"You should arrange for a dress to be made, and Sansa - do keep it a secret."  
"Oh, I promise I will! It is so romantic. I will tell no one." Sansa jumped up, giggling. "I shall arrange for a dress at once."

As her sister left, Iona grinned. Her sister's innocence was useful for some things.  
Iona did not actually care if anyone found out, but it would be preferable if they did not. The only issue would be Cersei, but Iona had already had Joffrey tell his father about the marriage, so that she was powerless.  
Iona had spent an evening laughing at the expense of the Queen's lack of power. She had sworn to herself that when she was Queen, she would never allow herself to be powerless.

Joffrey, only hours after announcing his planned marriage to his father (who had wholeheartedly agreed), was called to his mother.  
He had barely stepped into the room before he was asked a question.  
"Why are you marrying Iona Stark?"  
"Was that not your plan?"  
His mother gave him a cold glare before responding.  
"No. We would have gotten you out of it somehow and married you to someone worthy."  
"I do not want anyone else. Iona is the only one who I can get along with. We understand each other!"  
"She is a liar and a whore!" Cersei spat,  
"Silence!" Joffrey yelled, "She is no such thing. Why do you have such hatred for her?"  
Cersei could not answer. She hated Iona because she was surely the girl from the prophecy. Not only that, but she knew Cersei's biggest secret and could use it to destroy her at any moment. Also, her son held a very high regard for her, a regard that he had never held for anyone else, including her, and it was dangerous for them all.  
"You have never liked her. Have you?" He accused "Why?"  
Cersei , again, could not answer. There was no actual reason, apart from ones that would either get her arrested or make her sound ridiculous. Joffrey laughed dryly. "Actually, I do not care. I am marrying her and you will have no say."  
He strode arrogantly out of her chambers and slammed the door behind him. Cersei was glad that she was alone at that point, because she did nothing but open her mouthing stupidly like a fish.

In the tower of the hand, when her father had healed,something similar had happened.  
"Why are you marrying him?"  
"Isn't that what you wanted?" Iona feigned innocence.  
"No. I am thinking of returning to Winterfell soon. The job is proving too dishonourable and demanding. They don't like to be positive here, they want it done quickly, even if if means killing innocent people."  
"You speak of the Targaryen girl."  
"Yes. I am not surprised you know - you always have had a way of finding things out"  
"My sisters and you should return to Winterfell, but I should not. My duty is here, and I must do it. I will marry him."  
"How could you possibly do such a thing? He is a treacherous boy... Some of the things he does are intolerable."  
"I am changing him father, I believe I am the only one who can make him into a better person, fit for ruling. He listens to me."  
"I still think it is a bad choice."  
"Well, I think it is not. I have no other purpose. If I was to return to Winterfell, you would only marry me off to someone else, a Lord, most likely. That would not be good enough. This is a chance to make our family apart of the Royal Family." She took a breath, almost for dramatic pause and then continued. "I will marry him, Father, and we have the blessings of the King. You can watch as I climb to success."

After pressing her ear against the door to check if anyone was within, she tugged the door open and slipped into Joffrey's chambers.  
Rather surprisingly, to her, he lounged on an armchair, reading.  
At the noise, he dropped his book down from his face, alarmed. His face relaxed when he saw who it was.  
"Iona."  
"My Prince," she purred, strolling towards him.  
"What brings you at this hour?"  
She laughed,  
"My Prince," She said, pushing the book aside and positioning herself so that she was straddling him, "We are to be married tomorrow!"  
He had frozen at the intimate contact, but slowly, after a few moments, he raised his hand to stroke her face.  
"I know. You will be mine..."  
Iona struggled to resist rolling her eyes. She was nobody's. If that was what made him happy, she would let him believe that.  
"To just think, that tomorrow... there will be _nothing_ between us." Her words were heavy with insinuation. She thought back to the day when he had tried to embarrass her by talking of their soon-to-be intimate relations. How the tables had turned.  
"Is your door locked?"  
He nodded.

She moved off him and skipped over to the bed. She climbed on it and patted the space next to her.  
"We cannot... indulge our pleasures tonight. I need to be pure for tomorrow, but tonight, will you hold me? As your wife to be?"  
Words did not need to be said as he joined her on his bed.


	15. Chapter 15

Today was the day.  
Iona Stark would become Iona Baratheon, or rather, _Iona Lannister_.  
When she woke in the morning, she made no move to get up straight away. She laid there, her arms resting on her stomach. Behind her head, her hair was splayed out. Thinking about it, she was dreading having her hair tugged by a brush and pulled in every which way to make it suitable for the eyes of twisted society, she would no longer belong to herself (or rather more, her family) but instead she would belong to the Heir of the Seven Kingdoms. It was such an unfortunate thing.

It was not all negative, however. For example, when the King died (which would hopefully be soon), she would become Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Of course, Joffrey would be the one in power, but he was her puppet.  
What a glorious Queen she would be. She closed her eyes and sighed in content.  
Iona did harbour some feelings for Joffrey, but they were nothing of to much worth. She supposed that she would grow to love him as much as he claimed to love her. A small part of her did want to, but for the most part, she told herself that sentiment was non-existent, and love was made up for manipulation.

Rane fussed over her dress, which was draped over a chair, whilst she contemplated everything.  
Eventually, she threw the covers back and turned to place her feet on the floor.  
"My Lady, we must dress you. I did as you asked and woke you up only an hour before."  
Unusually, they were to be wed mid-morning, rather than mid afternoon, as most couples did. They wanted the ceremony to happen early, and then have the rest of the day to do as they usually would before coming together again for the consummation.

Her dress was new, but was not especially glamorous, as to to not draw attention to herself.  
The dress was off the shoulder, with a scoop neck, made of the finest, emerald green fabric. The sleeves were similar to those commonly worn by Cersei... _royal sleeves._  
It was a small hint to the activities that would take place today; Iona was becoming a part of the royal family.

She allowed Rane to remove her small clothes and perfume her skin before pulling the dress over her head.  
Rane tied her corset so that breasts were nicely emphasised, without becoming scandalous.  
She then proceeded to braid and twist her hair into intricate patterns upon her head.  
"May I ask how you are feeling, my lady?"  
"Nervous, I suppose. What if something goes wrong?"  
"Nothing would, my lady."  
"I know I wanted this to be secret, but when we are in the Sept, will you begin to tell other servants, and as many people as you can? I want to surprise Prince Joffrey."  
"Of course, my lady. I will do my very best."

Walking into the sept, she took a moment to look around. At the other end, she could see Joffrey, standing with the High Septon, and his father. Closeby stood Sansa, Renly and _Cersei._ She had decided to come then, in the end. She supposed that the love for her son outweighed the contempt Cersei held for her.  
She, rather embarrassingly, jumped slightly when from her right, her father said her name gently.  
"Father,"  
"I could not let my eldest daughter walk alone. I am sorry, Iona."  
She smiled, "Thank you, father."  
He offered her his arm and she took it.  
Together, they walked down the aisle.  
She struggled to stay composed for several reasons. Mostly, because watching Cersei try to hide her sour look was hilarious. Though, it was also due to the fact that she was actually coming to terms with what was happening. She was marrying Joffrey Lannister. She did want to become Queen, hence why she was so desperate to marry him, but she had actually developed a certain regard for him. She had never had any regard or anyone other than her family, and it did frighten her.  
As she tackled the steps, she looked up to see Joffrey smirking at her. Surprisingly, that reinstated her confidence.

"With this kiss, I pledge my love." Joffrey declared, most embarrassingly. Behind her, she heard her sister cry out in adoration. The King and Sansa were probably the only ones who cared about this. Perhaps Renly showed a little interest, but Cersei and Ned despised the idea. They had simply obliged for the sake of their children.  
For the sake of the others, when the pulled away from each other, Iona grinned.  
Joffrey linked arms with her and walked back towards the door. Iona tried to walk as slowly as she could, hoping that what she had planned had come together. Seconds could make a big difference.  
The loyalty of the people had been underestimated. Everything she had done to ensure they were well loved had worked.  
When they opened the doors, there at the bottom of the steps, crowds of people had gathered.  
The look of surprise and delight on Joffrey's face had made the day.  
"Hooray for the Prince! Hooray for Iona Baratheon!" The crowds cheered, many with congratulations and other blessings.  
Next to her, Joffrey laughed.  
She held onto his arm and held him close.  
"Surprise, my love."  
Joffrey looked from the crowd to his wife.  
"You arranged this?"  
"For you," She lied, filling her voice full of love,  
He laughed again and kissed her for all of the crowds to see. All of them cheered and cried out for the future King and Queen, and the happiness of them both.

Cersei had protested against it, but with a bit of persuasion, and settling on having four Kings Guards escort them, the newly wedded couple walked through the crowds who parted quickly, so that they could greet and thank as many people as they could.  
Still, Joffrey was hesitant to do such things, but when Iona had lead, and he had seen how much the people loved it, he had soon followed.  
Iona held his hand, leading him through. When they were almost clear of the people, she turned back and stopped to whisper in his ear.  
"The people love their future King."

By not having an official afternoon celebration, they were not obligated to follow through with the bedding ceremony. Iona was thankful for this at least. She wouldn't have been able to cope with men groping at her like a whore.  
Instead, all that happened was that Joffrey was escorted to her chamber in a robe, whilst she lay on her bed in her small clothes.  
Though they were both virgins, Iona had knowledge.  
Her knowledge most definitely showcased itself that night.


	16. Chapter 16

"Now we are married, we shall have a joint bedchamber." Joffrey declared, as soon as they were both dressed in the morning.  
"Will you not tire of me?" She asked, rather dismayed at the idea, as she would not have her own privacy.  
"I could never tire of you."  
"Then so we shall, but I should still like to keep my room in the Tower of the Hand, if it pleases you."  
"If you must."  
Iona smiled. "I must go, I have many things to do."  
"Go, then, Wife."  
As she left the room, she rolled her eyes at his comment.  
She had spent almost every night in her husband's room, as she should have, and they were all more than satisfactory, but his incessant need for her was becoming tiring, and boring. She enjoyed his company, most of the time, just not his need to address her as 'Wife'.  
Though, it did remind her of the fact that she would one day, be Queen. Her title had been updated to 'Princess', which peeved Cersei Lannister greatly, much to Iona's joy. The good did outweigh the bad, by a great deal.

She headed to her own chambers, to dine there.  
Her food was served by the handmaidens who had been sent by Cersei, and so she was always cautious when she ate or drank.  
She purposely always ate the same thing when she dined alone and was served by them - so that she could tell if there was a difference.  
Now, only after two weeks of being married to Joffrey, she was handed her goblet, filled with honeyed milk, with an added, unwanted extra. Iona had taken a small, subtle sniff and smelt the sourness of Tears of Lys that would have been undetectable if someone did not know what to look out for. For a self-trained nose, like her's, the poison's characteristics were obvious.  
Clenching and unclenching her jaw, she placed the goblet down gently and excused herself. It took a lot of effort to restrain herself from torturing the handmaiden for information, just for the sake of it, seeing as she already knew who had commanded it.  
Her handmaidens remained clueless to the fact that she had foiled their plan, having thought she was leaving to collect something from her husband's room.

She stormed quickly to Cersei's chambers, where she had to fight her urge to barge in. Instead, she knocked on the door.  
"Enter."  
The surprise was evident on Cersei's face when she saw her good-daughter standing in the doorway. Iona perhaps sensed a little anxiousness, most likely because Cersei had probably been expecting her to be dead by now. She shifted in her seat, and placed the goblet that she held, down on the side table next to her.  
"Iona. Sit down, please..."  
Sitting in the armchair opposite, she did not have the chance to speak before Cersei asked,  
"What can I do for you?"  
"May I ask why you tried to poison me?"  
Cersei feigned being taken aback, and laughed, "What on earth do you mean, child?"  
"The Tears of Lys, that my handmaiden put in my drink on your command. Why?"  
"I have no idea what you talk of."  
"Do not lie to me. Not after all I have done for you."  
Cersei took in a sharp breath, hesitating.  
"I asked her. With a small threat, followed by a very large sum, she revealed everything faster than I could have imagined." Iona lied, so convincingly that Cersei fell for it, and slumped.  
"I do not trust you." Cersei said simply, glaring at the other woman, causing Iona to scoff.  
"After all I have done for you, you do not trust me?"  
"You let your own brother suffer without justice, for me. How can I trust you when you betray your own family?" Cersei demanded, becoming agitated.  
Iona tensed, taken aback.  
 _Think, Iona. Act._

As if she was lighting a fire, she quickly and easily forced tears spring to her eyes and fall.  
She choked, for effect. "Do you think I enjoyed that? Everyday I live with the guilt - knowing I could have done something... I could have had Ser Jaime and you arrested... killed. Though I didn't. I let my brother suffer, for you. For JOFFREY!"  
By the end, she was screaming, making herself sound agonised and throwing herself out of her chair so that she collapsed on the floor.  
Cersei flinched but made no move to comfort her, staring at her as if she was something dangerous.

Grovelling, at the floor, Iona continued, her voice quieter this time.  
"I love my family, as flawed as they may be. It pains me to think of the injustice that I brought my brother. All for the sake of you. I regret everything I did, but I do not regret protecting your son... You're beautiful son, whom I love very much. I knew it, even then. Does that satisfy you? Knowing I would do as much for your son as you would?"  
She let her last sentence futter off as she picked up her sobbing again, tears dribbling down her face and dropping onto the dress or the floor.

Unsure of how to deal with the snivelling girl on the floor, Cersei slowly stood up and walked around her, giving her a wide berth.  
"You have seen what he is. He is not without flaws. He is my son, and I love him, but he is a monster."  
"Everyone has flaws, and with your son, I overlook them, because to me, he is kind, and loving. I want the best for him; isn't that good enough?"  
Cersei did not answer.  
"What do you want from me?" Iona cried,

Cersei was exasperated. She did not know what she could do. She could not attempt to assassinate Iona again, things would go badly, as they had done now. What did she want from her? _Nothing._ She was just afraid - afraid of the prophecy. Surely, Iona was the girl of whom it spoke of. She would take and ruin everything she held dear. Cersei would not let that happen.  
Though, Iona was not strong enough to be that person.  
Cersei was trapped. She could do nothing.  
That was wrong. She could do something; she could do what she was best at. _Cersei could manipulate Iona so that she was her puppet._  
Iona thought that she was born to the wrong family, and so Cersei would take her into her own; loving her, and showering her with attention so that Iona felt safe.  
When that finally happened, Cersei would strike her down and destroy her, once and for all.

Approaching her slowly, forcing herself to put her plan into action, she wrapped her arms around Iona tentatively and whispered,  
"I am sorry. I reacted horrendously. I will never do so again. Please, let us start again. If my son can love you, then I can too."  
Cersei had never struggled to lie about something that disgusted her, but that had been extremely difficult.


End file.
